


Cataclysm

by MissScorp



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham Unhinged (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Batman: Arkham (Video Games) Setting, Angst, Drama, Family, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Loyalty, No Man’s Land, Pre-Arkham Asylum
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 13:20:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19888492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissScorp/pseuds/MissScorp
Summary: A massive earthquake has left thousands dead and hundreds more injured. Gotham, already a city where the depraved, indifferent, and criminally insane roam has become an urban war zone. Loyalties will be tested, friendships will be questioned, and new alliances will be formed. Even the city’s protectors will find themselves having to rise if they want to survive No Man's Land.





	Cataclysm

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, all, and welcome! Getting the legal out of the way, I own nothing here. I promise, however, to return all characters in a gently used condition. This piece is an entry in the 2019 Writer's Anonymous Random Opener Challenge on Fan Fiction.net that says you have to use the line, "All right, maybe it wasn't the best way to start off a conversation" as your random opener.
> 
> A little explanation for this story since some people might be confused. This is set during the 1999 comic event called No Man's Land. This is not set in that comics timeline, though. This is happening in the Arkham-verse. As it is not part of the Arkham games, it is not a crossover with the games. It is taking the No Man's Land mention from the game Arkham City and embellishing on it.
> 
> If you like this piece, please, kudo/bookmark it. Thanks, everyone! Take care!

All right, maybe it wasn't the _best_ way to start off a conversation. Really, though, she couldn't think of a way that'd start this discussion off any better. _You just don't beat around the bush with Batman,_ she thought as she stared into his masked countenance. No, it was best to just say what she needed to say and be damned for it.

"I'm not going."

A shadow passed through his eyes. The planes of his face became hard as stone. He didn't care for her choice of words. Not that she could help that. Beating around the bush would only prolong the inevitable fight they were gonna have.

"Excuse me?"

She managed to not squirm. Well, not much, anyway. Anyone with half a brain would squirm under Batman's penetrating stare. _Explains why so many thugs don't run when they see him_. _Well_ , she amended as she released a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. _They also fear what their bosses will do to them should they tuck tail and run._

"I'm waiting for an answer, Raya."

"I said I'm not going."

He closed his eyes. More a long blink than anything else. Striving for calm, she suspected. _Or the patience to not throttle me for my outright refusal to do as he says_. Not that he'd ever lay a hand on her. Physical forms of punishment weren't how Batman dealt with her. No, he tended to punish her by sticking her with extra long, and extra boring, patrol shifts.

"Raya..."

"No, Batman." She shook her head. "I'm not giving in. Not this time."

He swung around and stalked towards the edge of the building. It was just the two of them out here since the rest of Gotham couldn't safely navigate this section of the city. Not when the street below was a churning river of water, debris, and other things she dared not think about.

Not at that moment, anyway.

Various parts of Gotham suffered a similar fate. The ferris wheel that presided over the boardwalk sat sullen and silent. She briefly wondered if Poison Ivy had taken up residence the Giordano Botanical Gardens or Robinson Park. She made a note to find out. Approaching Ivy was risky but there was nobody better to help her set up a garden from which they could feed the citizens who elected to stay in Gotham during the crisis.

Behind them lay Park Row, the Industrial District, and the Bowery. To the west of them was the Diamond District, Coventry, and Burnley.

All dark.

All silent.

All shadows of their former selves.

The quiet was shattered by the blaring of a civil defense siren. In the distance, dozens of helicopters flew in circles, their halogen beams slashing through the thin mist rising off the water. People the size of ants burst into a frenzy of activity. A voice, distorted by amplification, drifted on the faint breeze. What they said, she didn't know. Not that she didn't have a feeling about what the voice was saying. The soft grunt from the man watching this scene with her said he, too, knew what they said.

The orders being given.

 _What orders_? Her lips thinned into a hard line. The ones that at midnight would officially cut Gotham off from the rest of the country. Why? Because the United States government, in its grossly exaggerated wisdom, decided that the only way to prevent the madness of Gotham from spilling over into the rest of the world was to cut the city off.

To forget about it and the people who chose to stay and fight.

For their homes.

For their families.

For their way of life.

Her gaze moved to where a broken floodlight sat on its mount. For many years that light painted an image of a giant bat in the Gotham sky. It inspired hope inside the downtrodden and fear in the vermin who preyed on them. Gotham needed that symbol, and the man it represented. _Like I needed when I reached out to him for help,_ she thought as he joined her at the building's edge.

Their lives intersected on this roof eighteen years ago.

She recalled how the night had been much like this one. Bitter cold and with just enough snow on the ground for kids to have snowball fights or use the sleds they got for Christmas. Then _Captain_ Gordon had gone missing after a tip came across the line saying that the newly escaped Killer Croc was spotted going into the sewers by the Steel Mill. With nowhere to turn, and among cops she didn't trust, Raya reached out to the only person she figured could help find her uncle: _Batman_.

A masked vigilante the criminals feared and the police despised because of his involvement in their affairs. Batman not only brought down the criminals that the police couldn't, but he exposed those who didn't deserve to wear their badges. A gust of wind blew from the south and brought the unmistakable scent of rotting food, sewage, blood, and death. Breathing through her mouth did not stop the nauseating smells from crawling down her throat.

"Here." A small tin was pressed into her hand. "This will help combat the smell."

"Thank you."

She dabbed a bit of the salve on the tip of her nose. The smell of peppermint, beeswax, and eucalyptus always reminded her of the first place she ever felt truly safe: Wayne Manor. The man beneath the cape and cowl brought her into his cartoon circus world on that fateful night. Why? Because he discovered her father intended to kill her, her uncle, and thousands of Gothamites in a bid to take over as Gotham's kingpin.

Just as he murdered her mother.

Grief shot up from her heart and brought anger with it. She never forgave her father for what he did to her mother. Batman taught her to channel that rage into good. To temper her hunger for vengeance with compassion. To seek justice. Facts. He gave her the knowledge and skills needed to survive this hellish nightmare they were now in.

He taught her to rise.

"I want you to explain why you refuse to leave Gotham." He shifted his gaze from the things happening across the river to hers. The heat of it scorched her but she didn't back down. She couldn't. Not when Gotham needed every last one of its heroes to help their devastated city and its people. "And don't be longwinded."

She harrumphed but kept her answer brief as demanded.

"Because Gotham needs me."

She didn't have to point out _why_ the city needed her. The massive earthquake that left hundreds dead and thousands more wounded could be seen from any direction they turned. The print media started calling Gotham the city where the depraved, the indifferent, and the criminally insane roamed in wild abandon.

Nobody who lived in the city denied what it was: a morally corrupt, violent, and volatile minefield. Where cities like Chicago, Los Angeles, and New York City took an offensive approach to the criminals roaming their streets. They created measures to cut down the amount of crime happening within their boroughs.

Gotham, however, relied on other means to control their problems.

The man in his custom black suit, scalloped cape billowing behind him dramatically, and with a menacing visage created by the cowl he wore to hide his public identity dedicated his life to this city. To its people. To stopping those who sought to hurt them for no reason other than because they could. He continued to do it despite all that the city had taken from him.

The élite class of supervillains who dwelled in Gotham made _chaos_ and _anarchy_ the _crime du jour_.

Every day-week-month brought some fresh horror.

Every second-minute-hour became a new nightmare.

This cataclysm was nothing more than another trauma piled on top of decades of other ones. The people who stayed were unafraid of what the coming days would be like. _There is little left to fear when you have people with names like Two-Face, Riddler, Penguin, and the Scarecrow unleashing hell upon your city on an almost daily basis._

The _little left to fear_ being the Clown Prince of Crime, of course.

Nobody possessed the Joker's ability for creating chaos and mayhem. He took both to entirely new levels. At any time of the day or night, a faint hint of his high-pitched cackle could be heard echoing over Gotham's rooftops. A thin man with a bone-white face in royal purple merino and ivory silk who danced around in some dark alleyway.

Always laughing.

_At them._

The citizens of Gotham could do nothing to stop the Joker from his flights of fancy. Same as they could do nothing to stop the chain of events that preceded the cataclysm that ripped the very streets of their city apart. Beyond surviving, of course. _And to pray_ _that those of us who choose to serve and protect the city will keep things from falling into utter and complete ruin_.

"You're taking the Batplane and heading for Blüdhaven," Batman informed her curtly. "Nightwing's there waiting for you."

"Well, he's going to be waiting for a really long time then." She folded her arms across her chest and spread her feet apart. Her stubborn stance as Robin liked to call it. Raya thought it more like the one that fighters took when they were staring down a particularly challenging opponent. _And Batman_ _is_ _particularly_ _challenging on a good day_. "Because I'm staying here in Gotham."

"You're going to Blüdhaven."

"No, I'm not."

A shadow passed through his eyes. That tick in his jaw pulsed harder. He didn't like her arguing with him. _No,_ she corrected as his eyes narrowed into thin slits. _He doesn't like me refusing to comply with his orders._ She had no choice, though. Tucking tail wasn't an option. Not with Gotham lying in shambles all around them.

"Raya."

He looked down at her, then stepped closer, towering over her by almost a foot. It was his way of trying to subtly _convince_ her to do as he said. She wasn't, though. Not this time. She didn't care how frustrated he got with her refusal to play by his rules. She wasn't a small child. She could make up her mind about what she was, and wasn't, going to do for herself.

"You can stop trying to intimidate me," she told him. "I'm not backing down. Not this time."

"Get in the Batplane."

"I will not get in the Batplane."

"I said..."

"I don't care what you said." She squared her shoulders. "Gotham needs every able body it has to keep it from turning into an urban war zone."

"It has enough protection."

"Does it?" She waved a hand towards the broken, disjointed city. "Because even as we speak, gangs are dividing up the streets. Setting up their territories. Soon as the military blows the bridges, it's will be complete anarchy in here."

"Gordon..."

"Needs every ounce of support we can give him at this moment." She folded her arms back over her chest. "He lost a lot of officers in the quake. What few are left have gathered at the central station, but they won't be able to stay there long."

He frowned.

"Why not?"

"Everything in that area is being split by the Demonz and the LoBoys."

"And?"

"And they'll soon control everything from Central to about a mile from the edge of Tricorner. Uncle Jim doesn't have enough officers to fight off over a hundred Well-armed gangbangers."

"He can keep them at bay."

"With what?" Incredulity sharpened her tone. "Sticks and dirt?"

"They have weapons and enough ammunition..."

"No, they don't." Her breath steamed the air between them. "What little ammunition and weapons they have are what Robin and I raided from the weapons caches Penguin and Black Mask lost access to in the cataclysm."

His sigh warned that she was treading on thin ground. Truth was truth, however. Even Batman couldn't avoid it. _He knows I'm right,_ she thought as she kept her eyes locked on his. _He knows things are bad in Gotham. That we are in it up to our eyeballs._

Being right, though, didn't mean a hill of beans to the Dark Knight.

"He will have every bit of support we can give him." He aimed a finger at her. "You are needed in Washington."

"No, I'm not."

"Raya..."

 _"_ Why do you think _I_ will succeed in Washington when _Bruce Wayne_ failed?" She ignored the faint grimace that twisted his features. "If _Bruce Wayne couldn't_ convince Washington to repeal this ridiculous quarantine and bring much-needed aid and supplies to Gotham, what makes you think Raya Kean can?"

"Because you're still Raya Berkeley."

Hearing her full name sent disgust shuddering through her. A part of her, a childish one, wanted to shout at him that she became Raya Kean when she chose him and her uncle Jim as her guardians. The mature side spoke solemnly and honestly.

"I stopped using that name a long time ago and you know it."

"The Berkeley name is as old as Wayne, Kane, and Elliott." He ignored her snort. "It still carries a lot of social influence. Something we need if we want to convince Washington to change its stance about Gotham."

"I'm a nobody," she said. "They won't listen to me."

"Yes, they will."

"Why?" She cocked her head to the side. "Why will they listen to me when they wouldn't listen to Bruce?"

"Because you've never pretended you were an overindulgent wastrel who only cares for your self-interests," he said, a trace of bitterness in his tone. "You're a straight-A student who chairs a number of committees, have funded a dozen centers for abuse victims, and orchestrated events meant to make people aware of the plight of the homeless, our veterans, the education system, animal and civil rights."

"I did those things with encouragement from _you_."

"You'd have done them, anyway, imp."

She would have, he was right. She didn't get involved in things she didn't believe in with every fiber of her being. Still...

"I don't see how any of that will convince Washington to lift this ridiculous quarantine order."

"You can appeal to the one medium we haven't."

"Which is?"

"The public."

Her eyebrows shot up. "You want me to appeal to the public?" At his nod, she frowned. "And how exactly do you want me to do that?"

"By showing them who and what Gotham is."

She considered what he said. There was merit in what he suggested. She could use both the Wayne and Berkeley names to attract attention to what was happening in Gotham. Lois and Clark could print articles for the Daily Planet. Vicki Vale could get her on TV to talk about what Washington's quarantine was doing to the people of Gotham. Getting the public involved would put pressure on Washington. However...

"I concede that those things will likely help convince the Senate to repeal this quarantine," she said. "But I still feel I'm better used here."

"You are..."

"Not going," she stated firmly. "And that's final."

If her flat refusal to obey his command surprised him, it didn't show. Not that she expected it too. No better poker player existed in this world. Not that she knew of, anyway. His ability to bluff allowed him a big advantage over his opponents. If they couldn't figure out his next move or thought they were left grasping at how to beat him.

_And if they can't beat him, they can't claim Gotham as their own._

Keeping things close to the vest was a sore spot between him and his two partners. _Even I get annoyed with his habit of doling out information as he sees fit_. She just learned to accept it as part of his personality.

"Raya..." He didn't growl it. _Well_ , she amended with a faint grimace, _he didn't growl it much_. "I need you to get public support on our side. It's the only way to convince Congress to lift the quarantine."

"I know what _you_ want me to do." She spoke slowly. Reasonably. "But I know what _I_ need to do. And that's to stay here and help the people of this city survive this nightmare."

It was the single most important decision of her life. One she didn't regret in the slightest. For as much as she hated the degenerates infecting Gotham with their disease, she also loved the city and its people. She loved its vibrancy, character, and history. Gotham was, after all, a uniquely diverse American city.

All sorts of cultures, classes, and ethnicities lived in the city's boroughs. Stores and restaurants appealed to all walks of life. Their theater district rivaled Broadway. The biggest bands played their amphitheater. Celebrities attended grand openings, charity events, even premiered their movies in their movie houses.

Gotham had a pulse, a heartbeat, a soul. It had glamour and pizzazz, but also old-world elegance and sophistication. The metamorphosis of the city as it shifted from day to night always mesmerized her. The cobblestone streets gleamed beneath a carnival of lights, nearly burst at the seams with the crowds traveling into or out of the city. The city thrived despite nearly being overshadowed by a continuous flow of violence.

Raya likened the streets of Gotham to a chessboard when she was younger. That analogy still rang true. The white pieces were the Gothamites protected by their silent guardian while the black were the criminals who wanted to knock over the Dark Knight and take control of the board. _Only this time_ , she mused as she waited for his blistering retort, _the board is cracked and ready to fall into the water._

"What are you going to do to help?"

As far as concessions went, it was more than she could hope for. It meant he was at least willing to listen to what she proposed to do. If he'd agree with her after she finished explaining what she planned? That remained shrouded in doubt. _Here goes nothing,_ she decided with a soft sigh.

"Selina and I are going to create a safe zone for people." She moved back to perch on one of the gargoyles that fell in the earthquake. "Somewhere near where Dr. Thompkins is setting up a clinic so we can get medical aid to those who are in need of it."

"You and Selina?" The surprise in his voice made her smile. "You are going to work together?"

"Yes, we are."

"You can refrain from going after each other?"

"I never said we'll have a perfect partnership."

And that was an understatement, she realized. Neither of them was exactly thrilled about working together. They weren't the best of friends. _Largely on account of you_. She didn't tell him that, though. Her feelings about Selina Kyle weren't something he'd understand. _Even though he's been in the same position when Dick and I have brought someone around that we like, but he doesn't._

"Why are you working together then?"

"Because we are mature enough to admit we can do a lot more good working together than we can apart." She joined him at the edge of the building. "Much as Selina and I don't like each other, we still respect each other. Her skills as a thief and my training as Fenix will help a lot of people."

He was silent. _Contemplating_ , she realized, hiding a smile. _And trying to poke holes in everything I'm saying_. He wouldn't let this go. Not until he was completely satisfied that every outcome and event had not only been accounted for, but a plan made to handle it. That keen intellect and indomitable will were the two greatest weapons in Batman's arsenal. Where members of the Justice League possessed things like super speed, superhuman strength, or special rings, Bruce Wayne was nothing more than a mortal man who relied on his know-how to take down his enemies.

"You're right," he finally admitted. "Together, you can do a lot of good for Gotham."

She glanced up at him.

"Does that mean I have your permission to stay here in Gotham?"

He gave her a mildly amused look.

"Not like you were asking for my permission, imp."

"No," she admitted with a slight nod. "However, I'd like to know I have it."

"You do." He didn't smile. However, his face softened a fraction of an inch. "And much as it pains me to admit, you're right. Gotham needs Fenix right now."

"Gotham will have Fenix and plain ole Raya Kean."

"Never plain," he corrected as a stiff wind snapped the ends of his cape behind him. "You've never been plain."

Whatever else he might have said got cut short when horns started blaring again. Together they watched as the ant-sized soldiers on toy-sized boats burst into a frenzy of activity. Voices distorted by the wind and amplification drifted across the water. She couldn't make out the words but had a feeling about what the voice said.

A second later there was a flash as the Robert Kane bridge exploded. Farther up came more explosions. _The Brown and Tricorner Bridges_ , she realized, heart dropping into her stomach. The water bubbled and fumed as the subway and rail tunnels that ran beneath the bridges imploded, water rushing to fill in the hungry space, and shutting them off, forever.

The sound of the explosions rang out over the broken rooftops.

From within the city came absolute silence. What could people say? They were warned. Told to evacuate before the bridges were destroyed. Those who stayed did so with the knowledge that they were officially cut off from the rest of the country.

No Man's Land.

 _That's what we've become_ , she thought as she stood there and watched as every entrance and exit plunged into the sea. _No Man's Land_.

A gloved hand settled on her shoulder.

"Gotham will rise."

"I know," she said in a low, emotionally charged tone as cheers came from the ants on their tiny boats. "We're going to teach it how.”


End file.
